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Suddenly the phone was ripped from her hand. Zara whirled around as Braden hit the end button and then turned the phone off.
“You won’t explain yourself to him.”
Zara sighed. Damn it, why did he have to be right? “He’s not been this persistent until the past week or so. I’m not sure why he wants to get back together so bad, but I swear he won’t affect my work with you.”
Braden closed the gap between them and stared down at her. The darkness slashing over half his face made him seem even more menacing, more intriguing.
“I don’t give a damn about that. I know you’re a professional. But I’m not going to stand here and listen to you defend yourself to an asshole who doesn’t deserve you.”
“Wow.” Zara crossed her arms and tried to process Braden’s words, his angry tone. “Um...thanks.”
Unsure what to do next, Zara glanced around the room. “I guess I’ll just grab a blanket and pillow and lie down. I’m pretty beat.”
The strain of the evening had seriously taken its toll on her, and all she wanted to do was crawl on to her chaise and fall dead asleep. Okay, maybe that wasn’t all she wanted to do, but doing her boss was out of the question.
By the time she’d gotten situated on the chaise, she glanced to her bed where Braden sat on the edge staring in her direction.
“What?”
“Are you going to be comfortable? I didn’t expect to take your bed.”
Seeing him there, knowing her sheets would smell like him long after he was gone, was just another layer of arousal she didn’t need.
“I’m perfectly comfortable. You’re the one still in a suit.”
With a soft laugh, he shook his head. In moments, he had his jacket off and was in the process of unbuttoning his shirt.
“Uh, wait. Are you undressing? Because—”
“Zara.” His hands froze on the buttons. “I’m just taking my shirt off.”
Just taking his shirt off. To which he will no doubt expose a chest she’ll want to stare at. With the light from the gas fireplace and the candle on the nightstand, she could see perfectly fine.
And yup. He’d taken his black dress shirt off and revealed an amazingly sculpted chest, smattered with dark hair and...was that ink on his arm?
“You’re staring,” he said without looking up at her. “You’re going to make me blush.”
Zara laughed. “I highly doubt you blush, let alone over a woman looking at you.” Because why deny the fact she had been? She’d been caught, but she didn’t care. The man was worth a good, long stare. “Good night, Braden.”
* * *
Her damn floral scent mocked him as he lay on top of her plush comforter. With his hands laced behind his head, Braden stared up at the ceiling watching the orange flickering glow from the candle. He wouldn’t get any sleep tonight. Besides the fact he had every intention of getting back up to check out the house after Zara had gone to sleep, how the hell could he actually rest when the object of his desire was lying only feet away?
He hadn’t expected to actually want her with such a passion and fierceness. Damn it. He knew he’d been attracted, but he’d passed being attracted long ago. Now he had a need so deeply embedded within him, he was going to go mad if he didn’t have her.
Zara had been knockout gorgeous in that black dress and those sexy heels earlier at his party. But seeing her in such a simple, natural way, with hair up and sweats on, had Braden questioning why the hell he wasn’t coercing her into this giant bed. He could have her clothes off in record time, despite what she’d said about mixing business and pleasure. The allure was there—the chemistry was hot enough to scorch them.
But he had a mission. One that couldn’t be forgotten just because he’d been sidetracked by this unexpected quest for Zara. He needed to focus. Sex was one thing, a marvelous thing actually, but she’d put up a defensive wall. He was alone in the house he’d been wanting in for quite some time. So why the hell was he lying here focused on what was denied to him instead of formulating a plan of where he’d search once she was fully asleep?
Braden suppressed a groan as he rolled to his side. He needed to start this process, so he could be ready to get the hell out when the roads cleared.
The scrolls had to be in this house. They had to be; he refused to believe any different. But at the same time, he had to be realistic. His family had lost this house and everything in it during the Great Depression—a little fact Zara most likely didn’t know.
